


the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

by persephonerights



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, I love them so much, gbbo au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephonerights/pseuds/persephonerights
Summary: Bran Stark is infuriating. Him and his smug face were sitting there calmly, drinking tea and staring at his oven. Meanwhile Myrcella was still struggling to understand what the next steps of the bake even are. Her hair was coming undone from its braid and she could feel the sweat running down her back.This technical was going to absolutely going to kill her. She came into this competition not confident in her ability to absolutely wow with beautiful signatures or show stopping showstoppers; but she was well aware of her prowess in technicals. Her plan was to take first in every technical - and work her way to the top.She hadn't accounted for Bran Stark. Calm and cool Bran Stark. Mr. I-Don’t-Have-to-Try-That-Hard-and-My-Showstoppers-Look-Ridiculously-Good-Bran-Stark.--It's a Brancella GBBO AU!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited by this because it's written purely for fun! I was rewatching Selasi's season off Great British Bake Off and was inspired to write this.
> 
> I hope you like it!

Bran Stark is  _ infuriating _ . Him and his smug face were sitting there calmly, drinking tea and staring at his oven. Meanwhile Myrcella was still struggling to understand what the next steps of the bake even are. Her hair was coming undone from its braid and she could feel the sweat running down her back. 

This technical was going to absolutely going to kill her. She came into this competition not confident in her ability to absolutely wow with beautiful signatures or show stopping showstoppers; but she was well aware of her prowess in technicals. Her plan was to take first in every technical - and work her way to the top. 

She hadn't accounted for Bran Stark. Calm and cool Bran Stark. Mr. I-Don’t-Have-to-Try-That-Hard-and-My-Showstoppers-Look-Ridiculously-Good-Bran-Stark. 

Myrcella tries not to let herself get worked up over these kinds of things. After living with Joffrey for her entire childhood she had gotten used to coming second in literally everything. But this competition was supposed to be her chance to shine. Sure, she had made it to the quarterfinals, but now she wanted to  _ win _ . 

Joining this competition was truly one of the only things she had done for herself in a long time. Second only to not answering her mom’s calls anymore. Nothing in the past 8 weekends had stressed her out as much as this technical. 

As she was sliding her pies into the oven she noticed that Bran was now working on decorations. Their benches had been next to each other for eight straight weeks and they had gotten quite used to each other, so when he noticed her staring he turned and smiled. Despite her stress and despite her inward hatred of his ability to out bake her she smiled at him. 

The most distracting thing about Bran Stark, however, was not his smile and baking skills. It’s how good of a person he was. In the first episode he immediately told Olenna and Willas that he had picked a lemon flavored treat for his sister Sansa, she loved lemon flavored things. Whenever people were running out of time on their own bakes he would come over and help them with whatever they needed. 

But she couldn’t afford to think about the Stark boy right now. Least of all because her family would go insane if she dated a Stark, but because she needed to focus on this technical. She took a deep breath to study herself, and her hands, to begin working on the intricate decorations needed. Damn it Olenna why did you have to do this to her. 

It felt as if the next hour passed by too fast. She hadn’t given herself much time to decorate the pie before having to put it up on the table. Her and Bran’s pies were right next to each other so she got a good look at it. It looked fantastic.

They took their seats in a row, all tense while the judges walked out and stared at their pies. Olenna had her usual raise eyebrow, giving nothing away. But Willas looked disappointed and Myrcella buried her face in her hands. Bran reached out for one of her hands and held it, and she was added to the line of nervous competitors holding hands. 

He gave her a soft and reassuring smile and she returned it. The judging began. As Olenna and Willas tasted all the pies they did not seem to be particularly fond of any of them. Myrcella’s pie hadn’t even been judged and she felt tears coming to her eyes. Bran squeezed her hand and she took a deep, steadying breath. 

The judges got to Bran’s pie and he didn’t even look nervous. The hand she was holding was steady and his body language was calm. Olenna tutted her tongue when she saw it, “The pastry itself is flaky but the decorations err on the side of sloppy.” Willas cut into the pie and they began to eat. 

“The flavors are delicious though, well baked,” Willas added. “But Grandmother is right, the decorations are a little sloppy.”

Considering it was anonymous Bran couldn’t react to any of their comments, but his face stayed the same. Per usual. 

After Bran’s they moved onto Myrcella’s and she felt her heart clench up. She squeezed Bran’s hand almost involuntarily. He squeezed back right as Olenna began to speak, “The decorations are gorgeous. You managed to get the rosettes just right. And the pastry looks good from here.”

They cut into her pie and she involuntarily tensed. Willas began to speak this time, “A good, clean cut. The fillings don’t make a mess and there’s no soggy bottom.” 

Olenna took a bite and smiled. Her first true smile of the technical and Myrcella felt as if she was going to burst, “It’s delicious. The fillings are just right and the pastry is quite good.” 

Myrcella was well aware that her smile was giving her away but she didn’t care. The judges were so nice! And nicer to hers than Bran’s! Hers was the last to be judged and Olenna and Willas began whispering between each other, pointing at the individual pies. Myrcella couldn’t tear her eyes away. 

Everyone had dropped each other’s hands at this point. Most of them clasping their own two hands together. But Bran hadn’t let go of hers and she had no plans of dropping his. Olenna and Willas walked back up to the table and Myrcella held her breath. They began at the bottom, as usual, but Myrcella wasn’t fully comprehending, she was only listening for her name. 

They got to second and Myrcella felt resignation come over. Second was the highest she had come all season. But instead she heard, “And in second we have this one.” And they didn’t point at her pie. They were pointing at Bran’s. 

Oh my gods, she was going to win first. “So first place is, Myrcella.” Willas motioned towards her and she put her hands up to her face and gasped. She was hoping, but she never thought she’d get it. Everyone clapped for her but it didn’t feel real. 

Bran pulled on her hand a little and smiled widely at her, with, pride? in his eyes? She reached down and hugged him, so excited and proud of herself. In her excitement she nearly fell into his lap and when she pulled back they were both blushing madly. 

It was time for them to walk off and do personal interviews but Myrcella was stopped on her way out by her Uncle Jaime who had a raised eyebrow. Her uncle and his friend Brienne were the hosts of this show and it was so fun having her uncle around. She practically jumped into his arms for a hug and she knew the cameras were following her. 

He laughed, “I’m so proud of you ‘Cella! And from what I can tell so was the Stark boy.” Jaime dropped her and she hit him lightly in the stomach, blushing.

“Shut up.”

He laughed and ruffled her hair as she batted at his hand. She walked out of the tent to go wait to do her personal interview. Gods, she hated those interviews. But Bran rolled up to her, “That first was well deserved. Your pie looked amazing.”

“Thank you.” There was a pause, “So did yours.”

He laughed lightly, “No it didn’t. But it all worked out in the end.” 

Right as she was about to respond she was called away for her interview. She left and answered all the questions she was asked, raving about her first place. In reality all she wanted to do was go back to her room and drink a glass of wine and watch a Ryan Reynolds romcom. 

Myrcella walked away from her interview and saw Bran leaving his out of the corner of her eye. Feeling a weird sort of confidence that she was almost positive came from her win she approached him, “I’m going to back to my room to watch a movie and drink some wine. Would you like to come up and watch it with me?”

Bran looked up at her and if he was shocked by her question he didn’t look it, “I’d love to.”

Questions swirled in Myrcella’s head as she and Bran made their way to the building. Was she being too forward? Did he think she was asking for, other things, too? Her uncle most certainly saw what she was doing. Was he judging her? Was he going to tell the other members of her family?

All the questions were silenced when Bran looked at her and simply said, “I’m really glad you asked me to join you.” Her heart raced and she smiled. In a moment of total fate, a single ray of sunshine peaked through the dreary clouds that had covered the sky all day. 

Today was going pretty good. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shrugs, “Whatever wants to happen will happen. Nothing that I do will change.”
> 
> “So you believe in fate?”
> 
> “I think we were both meant to be here.”
> 
> When he said that Myrcella felt so validated. She had felt this way since the beginning of the competition, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes there are some direct references to this season of Great British Bake Off, yes I'm mad about Helena

Myrcella was going to lose her mind. She was still shocked by her own boldness the night before. Her heart had been racing as her and Bran made their way to her room for wine and romcom. The shock she had felt at his acceptance turned into shock at her own actions. 

She was never this bold. Ever. She wasn’t even sure why she asked Bran of all people in the tent. Inviting her cousin Shireen would have made so much more sense. 

Something about Bran just interested her so much. During downtime on the second weekend he had pulled out tarot cards and did readings for anyone who wanted them. When people online were inevitably dicks, there’s always dicks, to both him and Shireen he took them down much like his sister Sansa did - by reminding them how talented he was. His other siblings were a lot more aggressive, and it was totally justified. 

Myrcella spent most of her childhood surrounded by people who weren’t inherently good. They were viciously ambitious, tore everyone down to get to the top. And here was Bran, someone she would describe as  _ good _ , and he was winning. No horrendous mind games necessary. 

When her and Bran had gotten to her room she poured them full glasses of wine and they watched a fake dating romcom, the volume down low so they could talk. She asked why he wanted to do the show and he told her, “It feels as if I’m supposed to be here.”

When he returned the question she shocked herself again by saying, “It’s the one thing that’s mine.”

He had smiled softly at her, “I understand. It can be hard to get something that’s all yours when you have siblings.” 

“Exactly.” She has to remember that the Starks have to have opinions on her family, considering hers seems dead set on harassing theirs. She should probably leave him alone, tell him to leave. But she can’t. “How are you always so calm? When we bake?”

He shrugs, “Whatever wants to happen will happen. Nothing that I do will change.”

“So you believe in fate?”

“I think we were both meant to be here.”

When he said that Myrcella felt so validated. She had felt this way since the beginning of the competition, “Me too.”

“Why are you always so stressed? When we bake?”

Myrcella bit her lip, she knew that he was going to ask this question, “I’m so scared I’m going to fail. Especially on national television.” If she did she couldn’t deal with the breakdown her mom would have. 

“I don’t think you’re going to fail, Myrcella. No one does.”

She blushed, “Well you all would probably be the only ones.”

Bran began moving his chair, “Follow me.”

Myrcella stood up, confused, “Where?”

“My room, I have something for you.” 

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

Myrcella had a feeling she wouldn’t get a straight answer but she was too curious. She had to learn what it was. She followed him to his room at the castle-esque building and walked into it. He wheeled over to the bed and reached underneath it, pulling out a box. 

“Yes, I would like that.”

“What is that?”

“Candles,” Bran opened the box and showed it to her. In it was about ten candles of various sizes, but they were all the same scent.

“Why?”

“They’re relaxation candles. Sansa gave them to me before the competition.” 

“Are you? Giving them to me?” Nothing in this conversation was illuminating to Myrcella.

“Yeah, since you’re stressed frequently. You should try them tonight. I think they’ll help.”

“Thank you! This so thoughtful,” she took the box from him and held it close to her. The only person who ever did thinks like this for her were her Uncle Jaime and cousin Shireen. Her chest was full of emotions she couldn’t quite place, and tears were pricking her eyes. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Myrcella looked up and he was blushing. “I’m going to go back to my room and sleep. Maybe we can get together again?”

The smile wouldn’t leave Myrcella’s face. She had taken that box all the way to her room and pulled out the candles. She set them up along the countertop in her bathroom and ran herself a bath. This was her opportunity to truly relax before the competition tomorrow. She was going to get star baker. 

* * *

Myrcella had been considering all of this while staring out at the surrounding area, on the lawn of the castle. She was lost deep in thought when her Uncle Jaime had apparently approached her. And she did not notice. 

“Myrcella?” 

She jumped and turned to face her uncle, who was smirking. She blushed, “Shut up Uncle Jaime.”

“What has you so deep in thought?”

“Nothing,” she crossed her arms but the blush didn’t leave her face. Thankfully, he dropped it. 

“Are you ready for today?”

She takes a deep breath, “I think I am. I think this week is the week.”

Uncle Jaime smiled, “Of course it’s your week. You deserve it.”

“You have to say that,” but Myrcella was smiling. 

“No I don’t! I could be a total dick!”

Laughter bubbled out of her and she was shocked. She was calm and confident, joking around with her uncle. As soon as she entered that tent all of it would wash away. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bran wheel out of the tent and he caught her eye. He smiled kindly and she smiled back, then felt herself blush. She turned away and looked back out at the field. Uncle Jaime was staring at her, she could feel it. 

“Oh?” Jaime asked, “And that was?”

She buried her face in her hands, “Shut up.”

He laughed, “No I’m serious. I thought you said he was the enemy, the one to beat.”

“He  _ is _ ,” Myrcella lifted her head. “But he’s also like...hot in a dorky way.”

Her uncle made a sound of disgust, “Gross. I’m still your uncle. I mean, I know I’m the cool one, but I’m still your uncle.” 

“Well! You asked! We hung out last night and now I’m confused.” 

Jaime gave her a side eye right as Brienne walked up, “Jaime we have to go get into place. Good morning Myrcella, good luck.”

Pointing at her, Jaime walked away, “We’ll talk later.”

Myrcella watched as he and Brienne walked away. She needed to get focused on today. There was a four hour bake she needed to prep for. 

* * *

Less than an hour later Myrcella was standing behind her bench in the tent. Usually right now her heart would be racing, her hands shaking. But today she was calm. Maybe there was magic in those candles that Bran gave her. 

She surveyed what was out in front of her and took stock. She would be making six pies and each had to be highly decorated and add to one cohesive story. 

Jaime and Brienne were bantering with each other in the front but she wasn’t fully paying attention to the words, only waiting to hear, “Bake.”

As soon as she heard it she was off. Even though she had four hours she had to make her dough and then the fillings and then decorate the top. She practiced the hell out of it all week though, Tommen had been thrilled. 

She entered an entirely different headspace as she worked. Everything felt like a routine. Mix the dry ingredients and slowly add the wet ingredients. Then flatten the butter before it can melt in the unbelievably hot tent. Insert the butter into the dough and fold. Then keep folding and smoothing until no bumps appear. 

Place the dough into the buttered pie tins and fix the edges. Place them in the oven to blind bake and begin making the fillings. Watch out for Brienne and Jaime coming to talk to her. Try not to sweat too much. 

After twenty-five minutes pull the pies out of the oven and let them cool as she keeps working on fillings and decorations. Don’t panic. Remember not to panic. The rest happened in a blur. She was vaguely aware of what was happening around her and what she said to the cameras. She told the story of her pies, her and the Sand girls had once ran around Dorne playing pranks on the girls’ father. 

It had gotten laughs and a raised eyebrow from her uncle. And a slight laugh from Bran at the bench next to hers, which further raised her uncle’s eyebrow. She ignored that and looked back at her bake, clearly dismissing him. 

They were in the last five minutes now and she was done. She had actually finished early. For the first time in this entire competition. Looking around she saw that Bran was struggling with timing for the first time ever. When she had gone into her baking zone, Bran had spilled one of his fillings, having to remake it. He was going to be late with his decorations at this rate. 

Her mother would tell her to leave him to it, to let him struggle and lose top place. Allowing Myrcella to rise to the top and finally win Star Baker. No one would blame her, she’s too pretty and full of sunshine to do it on purpose. 

Myrcella bit her lip and rushed over to him, “What do you need me to do?”

Bran looked up at her and didn’t seem to be panicking at all. Slightly stressed, maybe, but not panicking. He smiled, “You are the best decorator in this tent.”

She blushed when he handed her a bowl of fruit. He was arranging them on his pies to look like scenes from his story. He was lucky she knew what his sister Sansa looked like. She got to work, neither her nor Bran talking. They were too focused on getting done. 

The cameras were focused on her and Bran and she could feel them. It felt a little intense. She was suddenly aware of how bad her hair looked in the messy, sweaty bun she put it up in. Bran, meanwhile, looked great. Not that she was focusing on that. She  _ cannot _ believe that she told her uncle that Bran is hot in a dorky way. She stands by it, but she shouldn’t have said it. 

Soon time is being called and Bran is grabbing her hand, squeezing it, “Thank you.” 

She smiled down at him, “It’s no problem.” In the back of her mind Myrcella was wondering if she could blame how red her face currently was on the heat in the tent. She made her way back to her own bench, standing behind her pies. 

Her name was called first and Brienne walked over to help her carry her pies. The icing sugar on top was meant to show each different prank they played on Oberyn. Her half brother Gendry had cut out the templates for her and they had turned out really good. If she was allowed to say that about herself. 

The pies were set in front of the judges and Myrcella anxiously watched them take their first bites. Her hands were held tight to her chest. OIenna took a bite and then Willas. They looked thoughtful as they ate. 

Olenna started first, “Very flaky pastry. Did you blind bake?”

“Yes…”

“That was a wise decision.”

Then Willas began, “Did you make the peach filling yourself?”

“Of course I did!” laughter rang out at Myrcella’s scandalized tone but she wasn’t joking.  _ The cheek! _

“Of course.”

They continued to give her compliments and she couldn’t be happier with how it was going. This was really turning out in her favor. She thanked them profusely and took her pies back to her bench. 

She watched as they reviewed everyone else’s pies and noted that no one else’s reviews seemed to be as positive of her own. The judges picked up on the fact that Bran was rushed, for the first time ever. 

While Olenna and Willas try to make their decision, all the contestants meet up in the quad and Shireen was being hugged by another contestant, Davos. Myrcella was controlling her desire to be proud of herself around her clearly upset cousin. Shireen was most likely going home and it was very upsetting. Shireen was her best friend in the tent and it would be so weird without her. 

However, she didn’t approach her. She thought it might make it worse. So her and Bran sat off to the side, his eyes were closed and he looked as if he were in a trance. She wanted her heart to calm down but it wouldn’t. She wanted to win so badly. 

They were eventually called back in, and sat in their row of chairs. The judges and hosts walked out and stared at them. She took Shireen and Bran’s hands. Jaime smiled at the crowd, “I have the amazing job of announcing our Star Baker this week, the queen of pranks herself, Myrcella Baratheon.”

Almost immediately she began to cry and squeezed Bran and Shireens’s hands. Shireen pulled her into a hug and then she turned and hugged Bran, once again almost falling into his lap. 

The tent sobered up as Brienne began to speak, “Sadly, this week I must announce who is going home. Each week this gets harder and we love you all, but this week Shireen Baratheon you are going home.”

Myrcella pulled Shireen into a hug this time, holding her close. They were both crying now and she let go of Shireen so she could hug and talk to other people. They made their way through the crowd, crying and hugging different people. She eventually made their way out of the tent and, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Margaery Tyrell and Sansa Stark. In Sansa’s arms was a bouquet of beautiful flowers. 

Jaime ran up to Myrcella. “Cella! Congrats!” She jumped into his hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you Uncle Jaime!”

“I have to go do the interviews, but stick around and I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Thanks, I have to go do my own.” 

She told the camera that she was proud of herself for finally getting Star Baker, and that she was one step closer to getting into the finale. 

The cameraman smiled at her and told her that was all, and as she was walking away Bran came up to her. He had Sansa’s flowers in his lap. It was so sweet that she bought him flowers. 

Then he was holding them out to her, “These are for you.”

“What?”

“I knew you’d win.”

She accepted the flowers and smiled at him, burying her blushing face in them. 

* * *

Myrcella should really start checking for rolling cameras. And she should’ve really thought about controlling her own blush on national television. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading this story! I'd love to read comments!!
> 
> i would like everyone to know that during all of this sansa and margaery were relentlessly teasing bran


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “At first, I didn’t like you. Our families hate each other and you’re so damn nice and so damn good at baking. It made me really want to hate you. But then we talked. And...you were so damn nice, and still so damn good at baking.”
> 
> He looked at her and smiled softly, “You really used to not like me?”
> 
> Myrcella laughs, ‘That’s what you from that.”
> 
> “No, but it was funny,” he pauses but Myrcella can tell he’s thinking. “I feel the same way. You’re so sweet and one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met.”
> 
> Somehow Bran kept saying exactly the right things to her. All she’s ever wanted to be is a good and genuine person, separate from the reputation of her family.

Shit soon hits the fan.

All over Twitter there were screenshots of her burying her face in those flowers as Bran smiles at her. He was one of the most serious contestants on the show, so seeing his face like that made everyone go wild. 

She was fielding calls left and right from friends and family alike. Everyone wanted to know if she was dating Bran. If this meant the rift between the Starks and Lannisters was officially mended. Myrcella wanted to tell them what Tywin and Joffrey did to the Starks wouldn’t be forgiven just because she blushed when one of their sons gave her a bouquet of flowers.

Myrcella was exhausted and even went as far as to call into work on Wednesday, thank gods she had an understanding boss. If not a slightly nosy one. She wanted to know everything, so Myrcella told her the truth. That she had no idea. 

After a particularly troubling phone call from Melisandra Asshai, Myrcella’s phone rang again. She groaned and dropped her head to the desk, but she picked up her phone.

Near tears and exhausted she said, “Yes?”

A voice she barely recognized said, “Oh Myrcella.” The voice sounded so concerned. “How are you holding up?”

“Who? Is this?"

“It’s Margaery Tyrell. Sorry for not introducing myself.”

“Oh! No, I’m sorry for not recognizing you. But, why are you calling me?”

“Well, me and Sansa saw Twitter last night and she just left to go check on Bran, and I figured you could use someone to talk to about what’s going on. The first time the news creates a rumor about you can be...slightly traumatizing. How many phone calls have you gotten?”

“Honestly, including yours, at least 20. People I haven’t talked to in years suddenly want to know about my love life and apparently a text or DM just won’t cut it.”

“You’re pretty hot, I’m sure your DMs are fucking insane.”

“They...really are. No one’s asked me that yet.”

“Asked you what?”

Myrcella has no idea why she was sharing this but she trusted Margaery, despite her better judgment, “How I’m holding up. It’s all just angry voicemails from my mom and people asking for gossip.”

She heard a sigh over the phone, “Isn’t that how it always goes? As soon as you do something that causes social media to explode, your feelings become irrelevant.”

Myrcella gave a sigh of her own, “Yeah, they really do.”

“Well stay strong. And kickass next week on the show. My grandmother just loves you,” and with that Margaery hung up the phone.

Myrcella has to take a seat. She couldn’t believe that Olenna Tyrell loves, _ her _. Olenna Tyrell! A cooking tv icon and Bake Off judge. 

Margaery had given her a lot to think about. A lot. Sansa was checking in on Bran? Myrcella hadn’t even considered what Bran must be going through. She felt so selfish. Of course Bran was going through the same things. She wasn’t the only one who was in those screenshots. And of course Margaery and Sansa were qualified to talk about the experience. The public had taken as interest in their relationship too. 

She was making herself lunch when her phone rang again. She picked it up and didn’t really think about it when she answered, “Hello?”

“Myrcella.”

Her heart stopped when she heard Bran’s voice on the other end, “Bran?”

He chuckled lightly, “Yeah it’s me. How’re you?”

“You mean besides getting hounded all day? Perfectly fine.”

There was a pause before he answered, “Listen, I’m sorry.”

“What? Why’re you sorry?”

“Because I should’ve checked for cameras before giving you those flowers. Usually I notice that kind of thing. Guess I was, kind of distracted.”

Myrcella didn’t miss the way he said he was distracted. It made her blush all over again, “Well, I should’ve checked for cameras before acting the way I did.”

“I guess we can both take the blame for our popularity then.”

“Yeah I guess we can.”

“Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up sometime? And get coffee before this weekend? So we can talk? I can take a train down to King's Landing?”

“Bran that’s too long of a ride! We can do it before filming this weekend.” Underneath her breath she says, “If we can stay alive until then that is.”

“...Well alright. I’ll see you then.”

Bran hung up the phone before Myrcella could respond and she didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to see Bran. Very badly. But she was right, it was too long of a train ride. She wasn’t worth the trouble. 

Her phone dinged with a text message, and when she looked at it, there was a text from Margaery. It was a train ticket for her and a hotel reservation. She immediately picked up the phone.

Myrcella called Margaery and waited until she answered.

“Margaery, this is too much. I can’t accept. I’m not even sure what it is.”

“Myrcella don’t joke. Of course you can accept it. It’s a train ticket to Winterfell and a reservation for one of my Dad’s hotels.”

“Why?”

“You deserve to get away for the rest of the week. Meet with Bran, talk it out, be romantic together.”

Myrcella was blushing, “Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

They said their goodbyes and ended the phone call. Apparently Myrcella had a train to catch tomorrow. 

* * *

The next day Myrcella got on the train, and settled in for a long train ride. Her stomach was in knots, Bran, Sansa, and Margaery were meeting her at the train station and were dropping her off at Bran’s for a little while so they could talk. She had no idea what she was going to say to him. It was probably smart of her to try and figure it out. She needed advice from someone. Maybe Ellaria? No, she was friends the woman’s daughters not really her. 

Her Uncle Jaime! Why didn’t she think of that. He had managed to land Brienne somehow so he had to be vaguely romantic. She sent him a text.

**Myrcella**: i need advice

He responded less than five minutes later.

_ Jaime: _ then why the hell are you texting me

**Myrcella**: you managed to score brienne SOMEHOW

_ Jaime _: yeah? and?

**Myrcella:** help! im meeting with bran today!

_ Jaime _: the one you so innapropriately called the one who’s hot in a dorky way?

**Myrcella:** that’s the bitch!

_ Jaime _: oof congrats I guess?

**Myrcella**: ????? what do i DO

_ Jaime _: idk?? Good luck??

**Myrcella** : UNCLE JAIME!!

* * *

Eleven hours later Myrcella got off the train and began to look for Sansa’s staple long red hair. Before she could even find them, Margaery was running up to her side and was wrapping her up into a hug. “I’m so excited to see you!”

Myrcella laughed awkwardly, “Hi Margaery.” 

Sansa walked up slowly to them and gave Myrcella a blinding smile, “Don’t smother her Marg.” 

“Oh honey, you know I wasn’t going to smother her. Just hug her! These are trying times for her.”

Myrcella smiled politely at Margaery and Sansa but there was only one person she really wanted to see. And she saw him wheel up behind Sansa.

He smiled at her and she smiled at him. Neither of them seemed to know what quite to do so Sansa stepped in, “Let’s get you all in the car. That way we can drop you off at Bran’s apartment. Myrcella, you can take an Uber to the hotel tonight.”

“Thank you all so much for doing this. I needed to get out of King’s Landing.”

Sansa’s face darkened slightly, “Don’t we all eventually?”

Myrcella remembered what she had heard that happened to Sansa in King’s Landing, “Yeah, we do.”

They got into Sansa’s SUV and she drove them to Bran’s apartment building. The atmosphere in the backseat of the car was tense, despite Sansa and Margaery keeping up a running dialogue in the front seat. It appears that Myrcella wasn’t the only one who had no idea what to say. 

It took less than half an hour for them to get there and Myrcella pushed aside her own awkwardness and helped Bran out of the car and into the building. Once they were in the elevator Bran turned his head and looked up at her. 

“So, according to Twitter we’re in love.”

Myrcella choked on a laugh, “Gods Bran, just jump right into it?”

Bran started laughing too, “Why shouldn’t I?”

Myrcella shook her head, “Let’s just get into your apartment before we start.”

Bran gave his typical half smile as they elevator dinged and the doors opened. They quickly moved into Bran’s apartment, and he wheeled into his kitchen. 

“Coffee?”

Myrcella just nodded, “Sure.” She hadn’t even really taken in the question he’d asked. She was too busy looking around his apartment. His walls were covered with bookshelves full of books. The room was homey and warm feeling. His kitchen had a wood base and was huge. He had a wonderful apartment and Myrcella was very curious what he did that he could also just take the rest of the week off of work. 

“Bran your apartment is...amazing.”

“Oh, thank you.” He kept his face down as he handed her the coffee.

She looked down on it and it had creamer art, the shape of a flower. “Oh! You do coffee art? This is adorable.”

“Thank you, again.” 

She could make out a faint blush on his cheeks and it made her smile.

“Take a seat, Myrcella,” Bran gestured to his couch and she sat.

“So.”

“So, apparently according to Twitter we’re in love. Or at least infatuated."

She laughed, “It does appear that was doesn’t it?”

“Well, it does.” 

“Maybe,” Myrcella looked down at her hands and took a deep breath. She needed to say this, she needed to be brave and get her feelings out, “Maybe Twitter isn’t wrong. Maybe I am infatuated.”

“Oh?” Bran looked shocked but Myrcella had more to say.

“At first, I didn’t like you. Our families hate each other and you’re so damn nice and so damn good at baking. It made me really want to hate you. But then we talked. And...you were so damn nice, and still so damn good at baking.”

He looked at her and smiled softly, “You really used to not like me?”

Myrcella laughs, ‘That’s what you from that.”

“No, but it was funny,” he pauses but Myrcella can tell he’s thinking. “I feel the same way. You’re so sweet and one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met.”

Somehow Bran kept saying exactly the right things to her. All she’s ever wanted to be is a good and genuine person, separate from the reputation of her family. 

“I-I-I don’t know what to say. You’ve managed to always say the right things.”

“I’ve been told I’ve had that power.”

Myrcella laughed wetly, “And cryptic.” 

Bran laughed and then reached for her hand. She let him take it. “My parents have asked me to invite you to Stark dinner tomorrow night, but you obviously don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Stark dinner?”

“It’s where all the Stark kids and their...friends...meet up and eat dinner every Friday night.”

It wasn’t hard to miss Bran’s meaning behind the word ‘friends’. And she found she didn’t mind it. “I would love to come.”

“My family is, intense, to be honest.”

“Well, better than mine at least,” Myrcella laughed despite the truthfulness of what she was saying. 

“Oh, we’ll see.”

Myrcella noticed the clock out of the corner of her eye and realized what time it was, “Oh I should go! It’s getting late.” She pulled her hand away from Bran’s and immediately felt cold. 

“You...don’t have to.” 

“What?” 

“I can sleep on the couch. You can have my bed. You shouldn’t have to take an Uber to a hotel that is half an hour away from here.”

“I won’t put you put in your own house. I’ll be fine.” 

“Myrcella, it won’t be any trouble to me.”

“Bran I won’t inconvenience you.” In a testament to how brave she gets around Bran she allows next words to fall out of her mouth, “How big is your bed? We can share.” She began to blush, “Just to sleep.”

Bran blushed as well and said, “It’s a big bed. We could share.”

“Well then, let’s do that.”

Bran offered her a hand and to show her to his bathroom and bedroom. She followed him and grabbed her bag on the way over there. It was a nice sized bed and a nice sized bedroom. “Thank you for letting me stay here Bran.”

“It’s no problem.”

They got ready for bed together in silence and then got into the bed, the silent slowly becoming more and more awkward. As they were getting into bed Bran turned to her and smiled, “See you in the morning.”

Myrcella smiled back, “See you in the morning,” and rolled over and went to sleep.

* * *

In the morning Myrcella woke up in a bed she didn’t recognize and took a moment to look around. She was in Bran’s bed and his bedroom. He wasn’t next to her which means he had already gotten up. She hopped out of his bed and went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. She still can’t believe that she had casually mentioned staying the night last night, no matter how innocent her offer. 

When she walked out of the bedroom she saw Bran in his kitchen working on something. He wheeled around to face her, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“I was making breakfast. For us. If you want some.”

“I’d love some.”

Bran smiled at her and the sunlight streaming in and the flannel he was wearing made him look so soft.

Soon they were eating at his kitchen table in comfortable silence.

Bran broke the silence, “What do you want to do today?”

“Honestly? Nothing.”

“Good. Me either. Usually I take dessert to Stark dinner, if you want to help me.”

“I’d love to!” Myrcella was excited to be able to work in Bran’s kitchen. Beside him. It’s almost a sign of commitment for bakers. But then she thought about the Stark dinner all over again. And she texted Margaery underneath the table to get advice.

**Myrcella** : I’m coming to Stark dinner!! i need help!!

** _Margaery_ ** : apparently you dont bitch!! you never checked into you hotel!!

**Myrcella** : we just slept!! nasty!! 

** _Margaery_ ** : lies!!

**Myrcella:** help me!

After that Margaery stopped responding and Myrcella didn’t feel any better. But Bran was starting to clear away the table so she helped. 

“So? What were you planning on making?”

He turned to her and smiled, “A pie.”

They worked together to get the ingredients out and she followed his lead. She was anxious for tonight but she felt weirdly at home in his kitchen. They baked together and talked, all of it seemed to flow naturally. 

The crust was baking in the oven while Bran and Myrcella were drinking tea.

“Bran,” he looked up at her, “I like being in your kitchen.”

“Myrcella, I like seeing you in my kitchen.”

When he said the knots in her stomach slowly started to unravel. No matter what happened at this dinner tonight, she still had this moment. 

* * *

At six o’clock that night Bran and Myrcella were waiting to be let into the Stark household. She was taking calm deep breaths to steady herself and she felt Bran laugh slightly beside her. 

The door was swung open and there stood Catelyn Stark. She was gorgeous with red hair in a braid and a beautiful green dress on. Myrcella was pulled into a bone crushing hug, “It’s so nice to meet you! We’re thankful for what you did for Bran last week, with the decorating.”

“Oh! It’s no problem, Bran would’ve done it for anyone.” They were ushered into the house and Myrcella was faced with a huge crowd of people. Bran went around and introduced her to everyone.

He pointed at a redheaded teenager, “That’s Rickon. We don’t feed him after midnight.” The redhead, Rickon, flipped Bran off good naturedly and laughed. Bran then wheeled over to a shorter girl with short brown hair and her massive boyfriend, “This is my sister Arya and her boyfriend Gendry.”

“Hi Arya and Gendry.”

Arya gave her a nod, “‘Ello.”

Bran kept going and so she followed him, “You’ve already met Sansa, so here’s Robb.” He gestured to the tall redhead standing next to the other tall redhead. He had his arm around a heavily pregnant brunette. 

“Hi Robb, I’m Myrcella.”

“Oh I know who you are. Bran, why don’t you show her the sitting room while we wait. There’s a fire going.”

Bran rolled her eyes at a reference she clearly didn’t understand but did as his brother suggested. “Follow me.”

She followed him into a gorgeous side room, with a roaring fire in the fireplace, “Wow. This room is gorgeous.”

“Well, my mom did all the interior design."

Myrcella laughed and Bran gestured for her to sit on the giant, plush couch. When she did he reached for her hand and took it in his own. 

“Myrcella, since you’re here and around my family, I thought I’d officially ask you, will you be my girlfriend?”

The warmth in the room was coming from her heart and from the fire, making the room feel boiling. “Of course Bran!”

He leaned forward gently and kissed her, and she almost melted.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story has come to an end!! it felt slightly rushed and I apologize for that but the storyline for this work kind of came as I wrote it so oof. 
> 
> but I really hope you liked it and please comment I love to hear what you guys thought about it! follow me tumblr @persephonerights to see the edit i made for this chapter
> 
> i might write a continuation from another character's perspective? we'll see!

**Author's Note:**

> Please please leave kudos and comment!!
> 
> follow me on tumblr is you want @persephonerights


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